Shades of Black
by DONT INJURE THE GINGER
Summary: Harry thought his summer couldn't get any weirder after having a dementor set on him... until an American claiming to be Sirius' relative comes bursting into Grimmauld Place. (Rewrite)
1. The One with the Eyes

Running had always been something Cas had always been good at. Cas tightened the straps of the backpack upon her shoulders and pushed her way past the many people hovering around Times Square, cursing the hundreds of stationary tourists under her breath. She gave a quick turn of her head and saw the two rather heavy cops panting behind her: calling at her and ordering her to stop that instant. She turned her attention to the front of her once again, narrowly avoiding an accident with a boy and his expensive camera. Her thoughts moved quicker than her feet as she bolted along the cracked gray cement that almost looked black with all the gum stains littering the floor.

She jerked left as a laugh bubbled up, threatening to emerge from her throat.

"STOP RIGHT THERE YOUNG MAN!" One of the pigs yelled at her. This time she did laugh, throwing her head back in utter amusement.

"Catch me if you can, old man!" she yelled back, pushing herself to run faster. The only sound she could hear was the wind rushing past her ears; her heavy breaths matching her beating heart. Her father's journal was tucked into her jacket and it thudded against her rib with every step she took. She twisted herself into a sudden alley, focusing on the dark hallway of her father's childhood home and grinned. Nausea took over her senses as the familiar feeling of being shoved into a tube of toothpaste enveloped her. She struggled to find her footing and she fell forward upon her knees at the front door. Rain poured down heavily and she nearly slipped again while getting back up. Landing had always been a bit difficult for her. She waved her hand over the doorknob and it swung open with a loud click.

Grimmauld Place was always open to those with Black blood running strong in their veins.

Cas closed the door behind her and shrugged off her trench coat, hanging it on the coat rack which was made of swirling oak that resembled outstretched palms looking for help. She grimaced at the sight and adjusted her coat so that it covered most of the gruesome looking design. She shook her head quickly with her hair dripping upon her shoulders and down her face annoyingly. She sighed and smiled at the long corridor in front of her, excitement bubbling up in her stomach at the thought of her family waiting to see her.

"Grandmother! Kreach! You're not going to _believe_ what happened to me tod - " started Cas, pushing past the second set of doors. Suddenly, she was face to face with a group of adults full of expressions filled with shock, fear, and everything in between. Cas' own shock immediately turned into anger as she realized these people had broken into her home. She whipped out her wand just as a cluster of wands were pointing in her face. "Who the _fuck_ are you?" she asked venomously. Just then, a red light burst out of a wand, straight towards her.

Cas gasped and whirled around into a crouch, the spell barely whipping over her head. She pushed an open palm out as a surge of adrenaline pushed out a shield charm that seemingly materialized from thin air and surrounded her. The stunning spell hit the door behind her, leaving a rather large, smoking hole in the dead center of the rotting wood. She blinked her eyes open and stood up, the shield growing larger to cover her lanky frame.

"How _dare_ you attack a Black in their own home!" she snarled in an undertone, the shield crackling dangerously around her.

"Regulus," breathed out a voice. Cas almost didn't hear it with the sound of her heart throbbing in her eardrums. Her entire mind ceased working for a second as she whipped her gaze to the source of the voice. A lanky man shakily pushed his way to the front, squinting at her. His clothes were more ratty than some of the homeless people in the darkest, dirtiest parts of New York. His hair was long and tangled, looking almost the same as Cas' own messy short locks. His face was hollowed in as if he hadn't eaten in a decade, however; it was his eyes that startled her. Even in the darkness of Grimmauld Place, his eyes glowed a dark, familiar silver.

The eyes of her father.

The eyes of her grandmother.

The eyes that every Black since the dawn of time appeared to have.

Her own eyes.

Her mind suddenly came into focus like a bulldozer slamming into a building, and she dropped her shield in an instant. She was staring at Sirius Black. She stared at him through the wet hair that drooped into her vision and couldn't find the words to say until, "I thought you were banned from this house. How did you get in here?"

"The house… I am, I was the sole heir. Or so I thought…" he rasped, his hands shaking maddeningly. Cas shook her head.

"I'm not Regulus Black. I'm rather insulted you'd even confuse me for him. Hair and trousers does not a boy make," she clucked in annoyance.

"Wha- ?" Sirius began in confusion, brows knitting together. Cas thought about the repercussions of revealing her identity to these people. Sirius was… family, but Merlin knows her grandmother raved on about his hatred of all things 'Black.' How could she trust him? Family is family, but he walked out on family. Did he even deserve the truth? Cas' mind raced as her father's journal weighed heavy on her frame. She'd read all the complaints about Sirius. Who did he think he was to come back to a legacy he'd turned his back on? Was he even allowed to expect answers?

However, there were also about 15 wands ready to strike her down in the next second if she didn't explain herself, and while Cas thought herself rather skilled with magic, there was no way she could take on 15 adult wizards.

Cas stood up straight, eyes boring into Sirius', and spoke proudly, "I am Cassiopeia Eridanus Black and _I_ am the true sole heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

The disbelief that clouded everyone's face made Cas clutch at her wand nervously. Every eye was on Sirius, waiting for his move. The man himself merely stood open mouthed, gaping at Cas confusedly.

Just then, Walburga Black decided to make herself known, much to Cas' chagrin. (And relief, though she'd never admit to _that_.)

"CASSIOPEIA ERIDANUS BLACK, HAVE YOU CUT YOUR HAIR AGAIN?!" Cas' eyes widened in slight fear.

_Ah, shit_.


	2. The One with the Plan

Being berated by a talking painting was not particularly something Cas looked forward to when visiting her dad's house. In fact, Cas felt downright terrified by her grandmother's portrait. She considered running away, only to dismiss that idea immediately. _Better to face things head on_, thought Cas. The group of old people seemed to be in complete shock as Cas pushed through them to meet her grandmother who proceeded to continue chide her on the length of her hair.

"Nobody even thought you were a girl! How will you ever find a husband if you keep it that short? And your clothing? What hideous attire do you insist on wearing?!" reprimanded Walburga Black as she eyed her granddaughter with a critical eye.

"Oh, shut up, you old hag!" Sirius shouted just then, pushing his way through the crowd of people again. Cas had her wand pressed up towards the base of his throat in a millisecond, not even taking a breath to contemplate the consequences of her actions.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to her that way," she said through gritted teeth in a low voice, anger dripping off of her tongue like poison. In response, everyone had their wands pointed in her direction once more. _Oh good¸ _thought Cas with a roll of her eyes, _they're NOT mindless zombies then_. Her gaze darted back to Sirius who raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

"Please, if you're a Black like you claim to be, you know that I could snap you in half right now _without_ a wand," he said haughtily. Cas sneered and lowered her wand, knowing he was telling the truth.

The Black's were not only the most Ancient and Noble House, but one of the most powerful. They hadn't gotten their reputation by simple word of mouth. The family could trace its roots all the way back to Morgana Le Fay, who was famous for her use of fairy magic without a wand. Still, for all the "natural" wandless gifts that seemed to run in the bones of the Black descendants, Cas could only do a few spells without becoming utterly exhausted. The shield charm she'd utilized earlier had her feeling dead on her feet. She knew she couldn't take on one adult in that room, let alone all of them. Even if she _had_ some kind of undepletable energy source of some kind, she probably wouldn't be able to take on 15 full grown wizards.

"Now, perhaps we should deal with the rather obvious issues at hand instead of you having a social with my hag of a mother. Kreacher!" Before Cas could yell at him for calling grandmother a hag, the house elf appeared out of thin air and squealed at her appearance, making her laugh.

"Kreach!" The elf raced over to Cas and fell to her feet, hugging her ankles.

"Oh, miss! Kreacher has missed the Miss Cassiopeia very much! All the blood-traitors and half-breeds bad master Sirius has Kreacher serving, oh. Mistress Black must be so disappointed with Kreacher. Kreacher is a bad elf! Very bad!"

Cas kneeled down and lifted the elderly house elf up by his forearms and patted him on the head, "I missed you too, Kreach. You're not a bad elf. You're an awesome elf. You are the epitome of what all elves should be! I'm sorry I've been gone for the past couple of things. It's been hectic back home. I have so much to catch you and grandmother on." Grandmother sighed in the background. She didn't quite care for the way Cas treated Kreach as though he were family, but for Cas who'd never really had a fully functioning family, Kreach _was_ family for her.

"Kreacher, go summon Dumbledore," Sirius told him, gritting his teeth. Kreacher glared at Sirius, hurling insults at him under his breath before disappearing with a loud crack. Cas' gaze drifted up from where Kreacher stood to Sirius' gaze.

"You should treat him better than that. He has feelings, you know," she spat at him. "But, whatever. What else can be expected from someone so self-centered…"

"Excuse m-"

"You're excused," she cut in with a drawl. Sirius merely stared at her in utter surprise.

"You are a really disrespectful kid, aren't you kid?" a gruff voice asked from the group. Cas whipped her head around in mock shock and gasped dramatically.

"Oh! The mob! It _speaks_! Quick, someone alert the presses," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I'll be as rude as I damn well please. You are all in _my_ house."

"My house," corrected Sirius.

"You were excommunicated."

Sirius sighed exasperatedly and Cas grinned. Annoying adults had always been her absolute favorite pastime.

"You were running from those disgusting American muggle auror's again, weren't you?" inquired Walburga Black curtly. Cas grimaced.

"They're technically called police officer's, grandmother."

"Were you or were you not running from them? Look at your clothing. It's absolutely hideous. It's bad enough you walk around in these trousers as if you're sort of young man… now they're wrinkled as well. You have a reputation to upkeep, young lady!"

"You should have seen them, grandmother! They were being ridiculously stupid… I couldn't just leave the stupidity be! They needed to be taught a lesson." Walburga Black sniffed haughtily then and returned to examining the treads of her gown.

"Well, I'm sure you made fools of them and that's all that matters, I suppose," she relented. Cas grinned.

"That's all that matters?!" asked Sirius in shock. "Where was that response when I accidentally turned that muggle's hair blue when I was eight?" Both Cas and Walburga turned to Sirius and raised an eyebrow as if he were disturbed in the mind and shook their heads. Sirius shuddered at the synchronicity. Just then, Kreacher popped back in Dumbledore who was wearing deliriously bright pajamas. _Right, time zones. Going from America to London, forgot about the time change_, thought Cas. _Granted, it's not like I was expecting to waken anyone._ Cas dramatically covered her eyes.

"I'm blind!" she said, putting up a hand to block the robes from her vision. Sirius scoffed and Cas could have sworn she heard a couple of snorts covered up as coughs.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, at your service. Pleased to meet you…?" asked Dumbledore kindly, as if Cas hadn't _just_ insulted him. God, she hated nice people.

"Cas Black. Pleasure is not mine," she muttered. Grandmother let out a strangled gasp and Cas felt a bit of fear knowing she would get yelled for that later. She didn't know why one had to be polite to everyone, including people you didn't like. Still, grandmother insisted on table manners for everyone.

"Well then, not that I doubt you, but we are currently in the midst of a war with Lord Voldemort," he spoke casually while everyone shuddered at the name. "So I do hope you do not mind I had my potions master whip up a quick genetic test?" Cas shrugged lazily in response. There was an awkward silence in which Sirius would open his mouth and close it again in a defeated shrug. Cas merely watched him with an amused smirk. A few moments later, a man in all black robes apparated into the hall. Cas wondered if he had come from sort of funeral.

"Here is the potion you requested, headmaster," drawled the man in a monotone voice. His dark eyes flicked to Cas' and she held back a shudder, merely catching his gaze and staring back defiantly. He eyed her critically before turning away suddenly. Dumbledore conjured up a goblet and poured the potion in, before letting the goblet float over to Cas, who scoffed.

"I'm not drinking that first. Who knows whether you poisoned it or not?"

"You said - "

"Yeah, I'll drink it… so long as someone else does a taste test," she muttered.

"I'll do it," said a man with bright red hair.

"Arthur!" chastised a woman with red hair as well.

"It's fine, Molly. I'm sure there's absolutely nothing to worry about, right Severus?" The man in the black robes said nothing. The red haired man took a sip and shuddered slightly. Then, a light purple hazy glow began to surround him and a weasel slowly appeared above him. It walked in a circle before disappearing. Ah, so he was a Weasley. The red hair should have been the indicator, noted Cas. She extended her hand.

"Alright, let's get this over with." She grabbed the goblet and took a long swig, nearly choking on it. Nothing happened for a moment before she felt an icy current run through her veins. Instead of being uncomfortable, however; it felt… like home. She heard quiet murmuring and she lifted up her arm to see a dark silver glittering shadow surrounding her body. She looked up to see two wolves growling while walking past one another like a pair of guards. "Happy?" she questioned.

"No, one easily manipulated potion is not enough to prove an identity," said the grumpy old man from before.

"My potions are not _easily manipulated_, Moody," growled the potions master.

"So you say, Snape."

"No, she's who she says she is. Besides, the fact she could get in is proof enough," sighed Sirius. "She could get in even though we placed Grimmauld Place under the fidelius. Any true Black is welcome at Grimmauld Place regardless of any charm placed upon it. That's why I could still access this place even if I was technically kicked out."

"You're saying Bellatrix or Narcissa could just waltz in here whenever they pleased, lad? How the hell does this place help us then?" asked the man. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"No. Bellatrix is a part of a new family as is Narcissa. Neither of them are true Blacks anymore, so they cannot come here. I am the last true Black… at least, I thought I was." Here he paused to turn to Cas who was wringing out the bottom of her shirt without paying attention. Sirius cleared his throat and Cas looked up.

"What - oh, sorry. I don't speak idiot very well, so I thought you were explaining things," said Cas.

"Why you little - " growled the grumpy old man, Alastor.

"Alastor - " interrupted Dumbledore genially.

"Let's just strap the kid down and force feed it veritaserum," grunted the man. Cas let out a strangled sound of annoyance.

"Did you just call me an 'it'?! I am the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black! How dare you speak to me like that you insolent rodent!" shouted Cas. Walburga Black made a hum of approval, her portrait glowing with pride. Once again Cas had a wand pointed to her face. She finally noticed the face of the man. Scarred and rugged, though the most obvious thing was the bulbous glass eye protruding from one of his eye sockets.

"Insult me again, kid," he growled. Cas opened her mouth to retort, only for Dumbledore to clear his throat. He placed a hand on Alastor's shoulders.

"We are all obviously feeling frustrated and stressed with the lack of information currently put forward. Let us all calm down, please, and get to the more important matters at hand. For instance, do you currently have a place to sleep, Miss Black?"

Cas stared at Dumbledore for a while before sighing. "Yeah, a place called home."

"Stay here," said Sirius suddenly. Cas raised an eyebrow. "You should stay here. You said it yourself, after all, this is your home too." Cas wanted to leave but the awkward tone of Sirius' voice left Cas to wonder if he really wanted her to stay. She did need to peruse her dad's room for some things.

"Well, I do have my own room here…" she muttered. At Sirius' inquisitive look, she continued, "My dad's old room. A lot of green, but at least it's not blinding like all the red that I saw in yours." Sirius snorted at that and Dumbledore clapped cheerfully. Cas wondered if the old man was sane _at all_.

"Wonderful! Tomorrow morning we shall get things settled properly, but until then perhaps some rest is in order?" The other adults grumbled but Alastor scoffed.

"Don't get any ideas, kid. I'll be here… _watching_." His glass eye fixated on her creepily and she grimaced.

"Ew. Creepy," she said. Sirius chuckled.

"Goodnight everyone. See you in the morning," said Dumbledore before popping out. The man in the black robes scowled at everyone before leaving as well. Cas wondered what his problem was. Perhaps he really _did _come from a funeral.

Suddenly the room became awkward once more as everyone stared at her. Cas cleared her throat, "Well then, I'll just… be… going now…"

Without skipping a beat, she twisted past Sirius and ran up the twisting staircase to her dad's room. She murmured a quiet spell that unlocked the door easily enough and slipped in quietly. She took a deep, shaky breath and slid down to the floor, running a hand through her wet hair.

For a second, just one second, she allowed herself to feel a little bit of fear. Cas had always gotten herself out of messy situations before, but this was a whole new ballgame. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do and it terrified her; she _always_ had a plan… or a piece of a plan. She took another breath, swallowed her fear, and stood up. She began to dig through her father's drawers, grabbing parchment and a pen from her pocket. She pushed all the papers right off his desk upon the floor, swearing to herself she'd pick it all up later, and began to plan.

A Black _always_ has a plan.


	3. The One with the Breakfast

**Author's Note: So, yeah, it's been a while. Hopefully there's still some interest in this out there! No harm in trying again, I suppose!**

* * *

It was rather difficult trying to sleep that night. Cas usually had a plan for most annoying obstacles that interrupted her plans for total, world domination. She'd had plans from the time she was seven being shifted from foster home to foster home to, well, _now_. She lay in her father's old bed staring at the door, waiting for something else to go wrong. There was a small pop and Cas immediately whipped her wand out, only to find Kreacher staring at the tail end of it.

"Kreacher apologizes for scaring young Mistress Black. Kreacher worries about young Mistress Black. Filth corrupts the Noble House of Black…" he murmured angrily. Cas sighed in relief.

"Don't worry about it, Kreach," she said, pocketing her wand. "Why hadn't you let me know that… _these people_ moved in here?"

"Kreacher tried, Mistress! Bad master won't let Kreacher near any communication. Kreacher is confined to Black properties only. Kreacher is a bad elf!" He began to sob and Cas dropped to her knees.

"No, Kreach, it's fine. I'll manage here. I mean… after Sirius escaped it was only a matter of time I figured he'd find me." Cas leaned back against one of the bed posts and ran a hand through her short hair.

"Madam Black is not happy about young Mistress' haircut thinks Kreacher," the old elf mentioned, looking up at her short locks.

"Yeah, probably not but it's not in my eyes anymore. My ears do get cold though," she said with a small smirk. Kreacher stared at her blankly before shaking his head.

"Young mistress looks just like great Master Regulus when she smiles like so," he said thoughtfully, turning away. Before he popped away, he paused. "Kreacher will bring earmuffs for young mistress' cold ears."

Cas grinned and stood up as Kreacher disapparated, hopping upon the bed and falling on her back. Sleep came rather easily after that…

Not that it lasted very long. After a good 4 ½ hour nap, Cas found herself awake and unable to drift back into sleep.

She rolled out of bed, slipping her feet into well used trainers, smashing the back in half out of laziness to put them on properly. She walked downstairs carefully, pulling her windbreaker onto her shoulders to cover herself. _Walking out in only a sports bra would probably kill the old people in the house_, she thought to herself with a quiet snort. She stepped out into the cold air and took a deep breath before jogging down the steps and breaking into a run.

As the sun began to rise, Cas double backed and turned back to Grimmauld. The park was quiet except for the slight _screech_ made by the rusty swings moving to the drum of the wind. She had always wondered why her grandparents chose to live in a place completely inhabited my muggles when they despised them so much. Wouldn't they have much rather liked to be secluded so they wouldn't have to ever see the so called "filth"? She added that to her mental list of weird things to investigate about her family.

As she crossed the threshold, she listened quietly for any movement. Nothing. Good.

She raced upstairs back into her room, ripping her clothes off as soon as she kicked the door shut behind her. She merely deposited her clothing upon the floor, knowing either she or Kreacher would pick them up soon enough. She sighed in pleasure as the steaming water poured on her back. That international apparition had left her utterly magically exhausted. While she'd been caught unawares the night before, she refused to become property of the adults in the household.

By the time she'd gotten out, she could hear the early morning stirrings of breakfast. She decided on wearing her father's old shirts and pants – though they might be male-oriented and perhaps a size too big, she loved the comfort they provided her. She donned a cap over her shortened locks and stepped out.

She wasn't nervous.

They were nervous. Obviously.

She moved downstairs and listened carefully. Based on the tones, it seemed as though there were only adults downstairs. She peeped into the kitchen and watched the Weasley lady-mom-adult-person make breakfast. A pink haired chick – whose wardrobe was inspired if Cas was honest – and Sirius were sitting at the table. A sad, sorry looking guy in a cardigan (_a cardigan, honestly? These Brits._) was pouring himself tea before joining them.

"You know, I can hear you breathing out there," said Sirius loudly, eyes never straying from his paper. Cas scoffed and walked in, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What? Sad to hear I'm still breathing?" she retorted, walking to the pantry and grabbing a box of cereal. She made a face at the box. "Fiber-O's? What kind of sick crap is this? I'll just starve, thanks."

"It's good for you," said the pink-haired chick with a smirk. "I'm Tonks, by the way. Also, no, nobody is upset you're dead. I think everyone is too interested in who the eff you are."

"Tonks!" said the Weasley woman. She whipped around and waved a spatula at her. "Mind your language! She's a child!"

Cas frowned and held a groan back. She absolutely hated when adults assumed that she was some innocent little kiddo.

"Pancakes? Eggs? Bacon? Or sausage? I've got that too!" Cas' eyes widened at the selection of breakfast and shook her head.

"I'll just have some juice," she said, eyeing everyone distrustfully. She poured herself a glass of orange juice before immediately spitting it out. "What the hell kind of orange juice is this?"

"Pumpkin juice," said Mr. Cardigan with a chuckle. "I'm assuming you don't drink that in the States?"

"She's from the United States?" asked Sirius in slight shock.

"Yeah, because my accent and yours are eerily similar," drawled Cas. Sirius rolled his eyes. She turned to Mr. Cardigan. "And no. We drink normal things like orange juice. Pumpkin juice? Disgusting." She shuddered.

"I'm Remus Lupin," Mr. Cardigan introduced himself with a smile. By doing that, Cas noticed his face carrying a few scars. She nodded slowly, putting him on her list of "worries." Scars are never a good sign. Just then, there were loud footsteps coming down the stairs. A cacophony of voices flooded the kitchen as a group of mostly red-headed children entered.

"Mum, please tell me we're going to pick up Harry tod- who's that?" a boy said, noticing me at the table.

"A long lost relative," said Sirius, still deep in his paper. "And no. Unfortunately, there's no _need_ to pick up Harry yet."

The kids all looked dumbfounded as they continued to stare at Cas. She sighed. "My name is Cas, okay? Now can you all stop staring at me? It's annoying." She sipped her orange juice and suddenly the kids all moved in a frenzy, sitting down at the table. Cas closed her eyes, looking down slightly so that her cap covered her expression. She was vaguely aware of the adults and children arguing over Harry and possibly her. She only looked up when it was silent.

Everyone had been staring at her and she blinked. "Oh, what? I was supposed to be paying attention, wasn't I? Got distracted writing my will for when I die of boredom." A few of the kids snickered as well as Tonks.

"We were just wondering if there's a guardian we could call for you?" asked Remus. Cas sat up straight and tilted her chin indignantly.

"No. I don't have anyone."

"Dear, you must have _someone_ who raised you. How else would you learn of your ancestry? I'm sure your mother is worried-" started the Weasley matriarch. Cas stood up abruptly, interrupting her with the scrape of her chair.

"No, I don't think so. How about I go back home? I think I've over-extended my stay, though."

"I don't think you're going anywhere," Sirius scoffed.

"Why? You don't seriously think _you_ can keep me here?" asked Cas, feeling defensive. She clutched at her wand in her pocket. Remus eyed her.

"Now, no need for any rushed decisions, Cas. Certainly no need for a wand there… you can trust me," he said.

Tonks and Sirius stood up then as Remus held up a hand, trying and failing to seem safe. The kids' gaze switched from the adults to Cas rapidly, as if following a ping pong match. Cas laughed.

"Um. Yeah no. Your cardigan doesn't fool me for a second, bro. Last time I trusted an adult, bad things happened. So how about, you all don't act like you're trying to cage me like some kind of animal and I just leave?" Cas said, tapping her wand on her chin in mock-thought. She waved her wand and smiled. "Bye!" Sirius lunged to grab her, but by then it was too late. She disappeared with a small pop.

"Mad-Eye is going to murder us," sighed Tonks, tucking her wand into her arm holster.


End file.
